


Solo

by swallowed_stars



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Body Worship, M/M, Masturbation, PWP, Power Bottom Keith, Sexual parts kept vague, Size Kink, trans keith
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-21
Updated: 2018-06-21
Packaged: 2019-05-26 06:19:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14994683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/swallowed_stars/pseuds/swallowed_stars
Summary: Keith's grown older and filled out, Shiro's got a definite thing for it. Unfortunately, the walls are a lot thinner in the castle than Shiro previously assumed.





	Solo

Shiro’s fiddling with the clasp on his belt before the door to his room is even fully shut. The chill of the metal is somewhat helpful as he leans back into it, his spine curving just slightly so that his hips are jutting forward. He’s not entirely convinced that he can even make it to the bed at this point. And thus, Shiro’s belt careens lifelessly to the floor, his hands pulsating as he unzips his pants. 

 

He’s been good at keeping quiet up until this moment, but once his hardened dick springs forth from his underwear, Shiro’s breath sputters like an old engine. Shiro strokes along his shaft with his flesh hand; though it isn’t traditional for him, his right arm is a rather rough prototype and he’s still unused to its touch. If Shiro’s going to rid himself of this feeling, he’s going to do it properly. He’s going to make himself feel  _ good _ . 

 

Shiro closes his eyes and inhales through his nostrils as he works at his pacing. He’s cupping himself, thumbing at his head, but he’s taking his time, relishing in the sensations he’s instilling within himself. All the while, he’s thinking of why he’s in this predicament: Keith. 

 

Keith’s changed: his jaw more squared, his chest tighter and more filled out, his hair longer. No matter how much Shiro’s pretended not to notice, it’s gorgeous and it’s maddening.

 

Shiro doesn’t have a definitive type. Sure, his exes were more built as Shiro is, but his gradual falling in love with Keith has proven to him that there is no real pattern. After all, Keith is a much tinier thing. Or at least, he  _ was _ . 

 

His whole body wracks with a needy sigh as Shiro starts to pump himself harder, picturing perfectly the way Keith’s outgrown the chestplate of his Marmora armor, the lining of Keith’s developed arm muscles in the spandex material... These images play in Shiro’s mind again and again, an ellipsis of how beautiful and  _ big  _ Keith is, and his name tumbles off Shiro’s lips for the first time: 

 

“Keith…”

 

Shiro invents him, assembles Keith in his mind’s eye and pretends that it’s his hand wrapped around Shiro’s dick. Shiro doesn’t dare open his eyes for fear of chasing Keith away, but goads him on, repeating his name: 

 

“Keith.” 

 

Keith’s there with him, smirking slyly, tugging at Shiro’s dick just the way he likes. Shiro dips his head back, the white wisps of his buzzed hair cresting against the metal door. Shiro can hear Keith’s voice ringing in his ears, low and grating and teasing. He says: 

 

“You like that?” 

 

_ Yes,  _ Shiro thinks,  _ don’t stop. _

 

Keith’s hand is all but springing against Shiro’s shaft, fingers strumming against the head and causing Shiro to leak. Keith always knows how to provoke him just right. 

 

“Keith,” Shiro’s voice rises in volume. His head is bobbing backward against the door as Keith continues his tempo, the thump of Shiro’s head in synchronization with Keith’s pumps, again and again and again. 

 

Shiro’s losing himself. His prototype hand curls into a fist, though he wants so badly to tangle it through Keith’s longer hair. 

 

“C’mon, baby. You’re almost there.” Keith whispers. Shiro can’t get enough of him, all that new definition to Keith’s body, all the angles and slopes he wants to explore with his hands. He can’t take it much longer.

 

“Oh, Keith. I can’t-”

 

“You can, Shiro. It’s why I’m here. Only I can do this for you.” 

 

“Y-You’re right…” Shiro’s teetering on the very edge. He just needs one last push from Keith, and Keith happily takes him there, giving the head one last little flick after stroking the entire length of Shiro. 

 

Shiro’s body convulses as he comes, his eyes fluttering open from the force. Keith’s gone, evaporated before him, and all that’s left is Shiro, his hand coated in cum and his dick limply dribbling down his thighs.

 

Shiro catches his breath before he rests his bare backside against the door to steady himself. He’s panting and reeling, cursing himself for the atypical lack of self-control. He didn’t even give himself time to grab a towel. 

 

Sloppily, Shiro pulls up his pants and walks over to his closet to retrieve said item, pulling one down from a shelf as he hears knocking upon his door. 

 

“Shiro?” A voice sounds from the other side of the door. It’s Keith, no mistaking that. Shiro’s heart lulls to a complete stop. 

 

“Uh, yeah, come in.” Shiro calls over his shoulder as he cleans off the rest of himself and accurately rests his pants on his hips. By the time Keith’s entered, Shiro’s tossed the towel into a far corner of his closet. 

 

“Sorry to bother you, but I heard you calling my name.” 

 

_ Fuck. _

 

“Is everything okay?” 

 

Shiro thanks the stars that his pants are black and therefore less likely to showcase the spots of dampness to them, but that still isn’t enough to save him. 

 

“Your name, huh?” Shiro says, realizing too late how profoundly dumb it sounds. He can’t think of where else to steer the conversation; was he really being  _ that  _ loud? 

 

“Yeah. Are you hurt or anything?” 

 

Shiro gives an uncomfortable roll of his shoulders. He manages to speak without stammering, though narrowly: 

 

“No, I’m good.” 

 

Keith takes a step forward, his voice thick as he says: “Nothing you wanted to tell me?” 

 

“Ah, nope.” 

 

Keith’s dangerously close before Shiro can even think to put a stop to it, a lump forming in his throat as Keith stares up at him. He’s gained some height, not having to look up quite as much to lock eyes with Shiro anymore. When their eyes do meet, Keith’s have a roguish glint to them, and Shiro can’t cough up a single word in the English language. 

 

“Liar,” Keith huffs, placing a hand upon Shiro’s chest. Shiro’s a goner and he knows it, but he still attempts to salvage himself: 

 

“‘m not…” 

 

“Yeah,” Keith asserts, running two fingers across the wet spot that lies just south of Shiro’s crotch, “you are.” 

 

“Fuck it,” Shiro declares. He closes the distance between them by cupping Keith’s face in his hands and smashing their lips together, Keith sighing into him as he does so. Keith doesn’t have to stand on his tiptoes to maintain contact, and that realization alone is sending Shiro spinning.

 

Keith takes the lead and urges himself and Shiro backward toward the bed, moving Shiro along by bunching Shiro’s shirt beneath his hand and pulling. He makes sure not to sever the two of them, lapping up into Shiro’s mouth and gnawing gently on his lower lip. Shiro’s groaning and mewling as he holds onto Keith, making Keith hot and ravenous before he even lies himself back onto the mattress. 

 

Shiro looks somewhat dumbfounded as Keith breaks the kiss and leans back onto the bed, prying open his legs and splaying a hand down there to showcase himself. 

 

“You want me,” Keith says breathlessly. It’s not a question. 

 

“Yes.” 

 

“You couldn’t even wait for me.” Keith says, his lip puffed out in a pout so hollow that it makes Shiro roll his eyes. 

 

Shiro isn’t about to let Keith have the last say, and so he lowers himself, crawling atop Keith until their torsos just graze one another’s. He makes sure he’s close enough that his breath ghosts across Keith’s forehead as he says: 

 

“I couldn’t help it. You’re so gorgeous, I just want to have my hands on you all the time.” 

 

“All you had to do was ask,” Keith laughs, tossing his head so that a few strands of hair fall away from his eyes. 

 

“Fine,” Shiro concedes, maintaining eye contact, “Keith, can I fuck you until you’re screaming my name?” 

 

“Yes, sir.” Keith says affirmatively and hoists himself up so he and Shiro are kissing again. In the meanwhile, he’s assisting Shiro by unzipping his own pants and writhing out of them. Keith’s legs thump against the side of the mattress as he kicks off his pants once and for all, and he watches reverently as Shiro slips off his shirt. 

 

Keith starts to ache with want as he soaks in the view of Shiro’s bare chest, broad and toned and covered in yarns of scars. It’s when Shiro surges forward and rubs his hardening dick against Keith’s entrance that Keith starts to lose his composure. He gasps, his eyes drifting closed from the initial shock giving way to pleasure. 

 

“Quit teasing,” Keith says, and wiggles away from Shiro so that he can continue discarding layers, Shiro smirking to himself in the meanwhile.

 

Keith rids himself of his underwear despite the delectable friction he and Shiro just shared. He then throws off his shirt with little ceremony and works at his binder, inching it up a bit slower but still getting it off with finesse. Shiro observes him, watching with such hunger that he’s forgotten that he’s halfway through undressing himself as well. He’s kneeling with his legs sprawled out on either side of Keith until Keith slips a finger beneath the lining of Shiro’s boxer briefs. Shiro laughs as Keith stretches out the waistband and then lets it slap back against the skin of Shiro’s thigh. 

 

“Off,” Keith commands.

 

Shiro manages to slide out of his underwear and position himself over Keith all in one move, leaning down and licking a stripe across Keith’s parted lips as he says: 

 

“I don’t think you’re in the position to give me orders.” 

 

Keith grinds up against Shiro, causing the both of them to moan at once. Keith then hooks a hand beneath Shiro’s chin so that his focus is only on Keith. 

 

“That’s right, soldier boy. Put me in my place.”

 

Shiro wastes no time, bowing his head until he’s secured one of Keith’s pink nipples in his mouth. Keith’s hand comes to rest at the base of Shiro’s neck as Shiro lolls his tongue against Keith’s nipple, rolling it between his teeth gently. Keith’s panting and sighing, gripping the sheets as Shiro wriggles a flinger past his entrance and fully into him. 

 

Shiro backtracks, removing his mouth from Keith’s nipple and craning his neck so he can place a trail of kisses along Keith’s jawline. Shiro kisses Keith chastely on the lips and winks as he slips in another finger, Keith all but crooning as he adjusts to Shiro’s fingers.

 

“You okay, beautiful?” Shiro says between kisses, getting to work on the other side of Keith’s neck.

 

“More than okay,” Keith says, grunting as Shiro nibbles and sucks at the skin on his neck, leaving a reddened patch in his stead. 

 

Shiro gets to work now, holding Keith’s hip with his prototype prosthetic and holding him as Shiro pumps his fingers within Keith and alongside his warm folds, massaging that one sweet spot. Keith’s gulping for air, his head bouncing forward as the pleasure bubbles forth in him, strands of his long hair strewn all about. It’s making Shiro that much harder to see Keith, his new Keith, unravelling at Shiro’s own hands. 

 

“You feel so good,” Shiro groans as Keith’s juices start coating Shiro’s fingers, Keith opening up for him like a flower. 

 

“Keep going,” Keith insists. Despite Keith’s attempts to force his eyes open, he breaks down once Shiro’s lips meet his own, drowning in the heat of Shiro’s tongue prying his mouth open. Keith’s tongue weaves around Shiro’s and they hold one another there, a proper counterbalance. The hand that was once on Keith’s hip has since abandoned its post and has found its way to Keith’s nipple, Keith grunting into Shiro as a metal thumb circles and presses his nub. 

 

Then, everything screeches to a halt. Keith feels Shiro’s fingers exit him and Keith whimpers at the loss of the feeling. 

 

“What are you doing?” Keith breathes, pushing the hair from his forehead as Shiro lifts off of him. Shiro’s only turned halfway by the time Keith barrages him. 

 

“We gotta be careful,” Shiro says plainly, his eyes scanning over his side table adjacent to the bed. 

 

“Fuck that,” Keith growls, “keep going.” 

 

“Keith, no. C’mon…” Shiro trails off, looking about, reaching out and rifling through his drawer. He isn’t prepared for when Keith grabs both of his hands and yanks him back onto the bed, positioning himself below Shiro. 

 

“Keith,” Shiro says in shock as he repositions himself. 

 

“Shiro, please. I don’t care, just keep going. I wanna feel you.” 

 

“I really don’t think-”

 

“-Shiro,” Keith groans, bucking his hips upward insistently. Shiro can only shake his head, forcing Keith down by placing his hand square in the middle of Keith’s chest. Keith allows himself to be maneuvered, detecting the formation of a smile on Shiro’s face which informs Keith that he’s won. 

 

Shiro eases the tip into Keith and Keith enforces this by tangling his arms around Shiro’s neck, his muscles caving in as he adjusts to Shiro’s girth. 

 

“Good?” huffs Shiro. 

 

“ _ God _ , yes” Keith says, going so far as to shimmy his hips so that Shiro’s pushed in further. 

 

Shiro embeds himself completely within Keith and begins to clench his teeth as he gets his momentum going, slowly sweeping forward and back inside Keith. Keith begins to paw at the sheets beneath him, gasping shallowly. 

 

Shiro’s unable to help himself from licking his lips as he observes the way Keith’s stomach muscles clench and unclench in time with his thrusts. He can’t believe how the man beneath him is his own.

 

“You’re so fucking gorgeous,” Shiro says, “you’re all I want.” 

 

“I’m here, Shiro,” Keith screeches, “I’m here.” 

 

Shiro’s thrusts grow faster and faster as he feels himself nearing the end. From the way Keith’s folding around him, entwining his legs around Shiro’s midsection, Shiro knows he’s also close. 

 

As if on cue, Keith croaks out: “Shiro, I think I’m-” 

 

“I’m taking you there, love. Just hold out.” 

 

“Shiro,” Keith’s hoarse voice reaches an enticing volume, “Shiro.” 

 

Shiro can feel Keith’s walls wobbling around him, begging for release, and Shiro grants him this: 

 

“Go on, Keith.” 

 

Keith clasps tightly around Shiro’s length, crying as he begins to seep all over Shiro’s dick and abdomen. He doesn’t fall slack, however, and places a hand tightly around Shiro’s shoulder blade. Vigorously, he says: 

 

“Stay in me.” 

 

Keith’s too smart for his own damn good. Shiro acquiesces despite his better judgment, pushing into Keith one final time before he starts to see white, his body giving way for the second time in the span of an hour, filling Keith to the absolute brim. 

 

Shiro pulls himself out of Keith and rolls over onto his side, the two of them coated in sweat and breathing deeply in the same measure of time. Keith presses a hand against his crotch, holding Shiro’s cum inside of him, a smirk plastered to his exhausted face. 

 

“Fuck, baby,” Shiro says, wiping his flesh hand across his messy forehead, “you’re something else.” 

 

“I couldn’t just let you keep all that fun to yourself,” Keith chuckles, his chest bobbing up and down. 

 

It goes quiet before Keith breaks the silence again: “Do you jerk it to me a lot?” 

 

Shiro glances over at Keith, who’s now situated himself on his side, facing Shiro with an eager look. Shiro debates whether it’s worth giving him the satisfaction, but he couldn’t say no to Keith if he tried.

 

“It’s been a lot more than usual lately, what with you getting older.” Shiro confesses, to which Keith looks stunned. 

 

“You like how I’ve changed?” 

 

“Like is too soft. I’d say you’re a fucking dream come true.” Shiro says. He sits up and reaches out to Keith, bringing him closer. Keith snuggles against him, running a hand through Shiro’s cropped white hair. 

 

“A dream come true would be you fucking me like that every day of the week.” Keith says coyly. 

 

“I’m sure we could arrange that.” 

 

“The only thing I wanna arrange right now is a shower.” 

 

Shiro nods, releasing Keith from his grip. He says: “I can agree to that.” 

 

Keith stands up, his legs shaking somewhat, and Shiro can’t deny the possessive electricity it sparks in him to know he caused it. Keith then offers his hand to Shiro and says:

 

“C’mon then, soldier boy. You’re not the only one with fantasies; I’ve been wanting to wash that new white hair of yours.” 

 

Shiro lets Keith lead him to the bathroom. 

**Author's Note:**

> These two are dummies please don't act like them and practice safe sex instead.


End file.
